Blind Faith, The 'In Good Faith' Remix
by Imadra Blue
Summary: Anakin Skywalker is a precocious eleven-year-old boy, full of opinions and beliefs about everything from his Master, Obi-Wan Kenobi, to what might make him turn to the dark side. Gen. Remix of "Faith" by Tartanshell from the Remix Redux IV challenge.


**Notes:** Written for Redux IV: I Know What You Did Last Remix.  
**Thanks To:** Rynne and Luthe for their superb beta-reading advice. All mistakes that remain are mine alone.  
**Title, Author and URL of original story:** "Faith" by Tartanshell. I cannot quite describe how much glee I felt when I realized my assignment was to remix the fic of an author I highly respect, and furthermore, whose work I love. I cannot recommend the original highly enough. It is Anakin and Obi-Wan genfic at its finest. I decided to try out Anakin's POV, add more to the beginning to build on Anakin and Obi-Wan's early relationship, and riff off a couple details (like new clothing and Anakin's visions). I built off what she so beautifully depicted through Obi-Wan's eyes, trying to show the same scene through Anakin's warped, barely pubescent point of view.

...

The heart is not made for thinking, only for feeling. Anakin Skywalker was a clever boy, but he thought with his heart, not his mind. It was both his strength and his weakness.

Anakin always woke up before Obi-Wan. He knew most people would never believe it, but Anakin was a morning person. He liked waking up with the sun, watching a fresh new day unfold across Coruscant. He still found the fact that Coruscant only had one sun a bit disconcerting, but after two years, he'd got used to it.

Anakin rose from his narrow bed and stretched a bit, yawning. He shivered; it was cold again. When he glanced out of the large window in his small room, the sun was only just starting to peek over the jagged horizon of the distant buildings. Anakin smiled at it, then got up to raise the temperature of the small apartment he and Obi-Wan shared in the Jedi Temple. Then he went to take his morning shower.

He still felt guilty every time he turned on the water just to bathe himself, but if he wasn't clean and smelling nice by the time Obi-Wan woke up, he knew Obi-Wan would be especially grumpy and force him to shower in any case. It was a complete waste of water, a luxury his mother certainly couldn't indulge in, but Obi-Wan was adamant about baths. One time, just after arriving, when Anakin had flat out refused to bathe ever, Obi-Wan had dragged him into the 'fresher, stripped him naked, and scrubbed him hard with the soap under very cold water. Anakin had consoled himself by leaving a large bruise on Obi-Wan's cheek and kicking him in the groin during the fight to the tub. After that disaster, Anakin decided he'd rather do it on his own. It was less embarrassing.

When he went to dress, Anakin was surprised to find his closet was filled with new clothes. They all fit perfectly, too. Obi-Wan must have snuck them into his room while he was sleeping, probably right around the time he normally lowered the temperature at night, forcing Anakin to burrow under three blankets.

Obi-Wan and Anakin had a little war going on over the thermostat. Anakin liked it warm, but Obi-Wan liked it cold. Rather than argue about it out loud, as they had the first few months of living together, they instead waged a cold war - literally. They would each sneak over to the small control panel on the wall between their rooms, adjusting the temperature to their individual preferences. Most of the time, neither of them would notice until they were either too hot or too cold. Anakin, on occasion, would brazenly adjust the temperature in Obi-Wan's sight, but Obi-Wan never reacted right then. He would simply lower it again when Anakin wasn't looking.

It was one of the strangest things about Obi-Wan. Anakin was used to his mother telling him right off when he did something wrong, but not Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan chastised him often for his behavior, but it was mild and ineffectual. Most times, Obi-Wan expressed his displeasure with Anakin's grades in his classes, his training progress, or even that he kept drooling on the pillows in more subtle ways. Whenever Anakin did poorly in class, usually because he'd grown bored with the material and stopped paying attention, Obi-Wan would make sure dinner consisted of things Anakin hated - like seafood. Anakin would never get used to liking the taste of anything that lived in water. When Anakin wasn't doing as well in his meditations or lightsaber practice as Obi-Wan wanted, Obi-Wan would simply make sure their training ran into Anakin's free time or would hide the holoplayer so Anakin couldn't watch the HoloNet shows he liked. When Anakin would do something silly that Obi-Wan didn't care for, like drooling on his pillow, Obi-Wan would wrap it in plastic while Anakin was in class. Obi-Wan would verbally complain about Anakin's performance, but never directly punished him. In fact, it had taken Anakin six months just to figure out Obi-Wan was punishing him at all and wasn't acting like a jerk just because he could.

Anakin had once determined two could play that game. When he'd found a list of personality traits in his Psychology course two weeks ago, all grouped together in "types", Anakin had been quick to arrive back at the apartment, telling Obi-Wan he had a personality very similar to Type XXVIIs, making sure Obi-Wan was aware of a Type XXVII's negative traits of passive-aggression, elitism, egotism, obsession, possession, and being unrealistic. Dinner that night had been some sort of fish. The smell alone had nauseated Anakin.

Anakin focused on the present, smoothing out his tunic, pleased with the way the light material felt against his skin, and walked out of the room. Unsurprisingly, Obi-Wan was still in his room. Anakin slid the door open and peeked in, finding Obi-Wan stretched out on his bed, sheets and sleeping clothes in a tangle around him. When the hall light cast a block of illumination over Obi-Wan's face, he rolled over, curling up under his sheets. Anakin shook his head. Obi-Wan kept his room darkened at night, apparently not able to stand any sort of light at all, not even the dim light of the city, when sleeping. Anakin thought him very strange. If Anakin was tired, he could and would fall asleep anywhere. He still remembered the time he'd fallen asleep during the negotiations with the Baradurs, which were done in rousing song, and Obi-Wan had spent the whole evening lecturing Anakin about a Jedi's duty and responsibility to pay attention at all times when on a mission. Anakin had found that lecture far preferable to the seafood dinners, at least.

Letting Obi-Wan's door slide closed, Anakin walked down the hallway, turning on the lights and opening the window blinds as he walked. Their apartment was small, as was typical for a mere Jedi Knight and a junior Padawan, but Anakin liked it all the same. It was his - his and Obi-Wan's - and it was home now. Anakin ran a finger over the smooth, beige wall. They had no decorations or paintings - personal possessions weren't allowed - but there was a sort of circular curving to the wall, and about four shades of beige working over the design. It reminded Anakin of Tatooine.

When he arrived in their small kitchen, Anakin used a step stool to find Obi-Wan's caf in the cupboards hanging over the counter. He popped it into the caf-maker, then dug around in the refrigerator for breakfast. Shmi had taught Anakin how to cook when he was seven, and though his meals were simple, he usually wound up making breakfast, because otherwise Obi-Wan would drink caf and eat his nasty, sugary pastries. Obi-Wan always made lunch and dinner, as they usually avoided the Temple's dining hall. After finding some garatu eggs and walin grains, Anakin began work on scrambled eggs and the sweet walin porridge he favored. He toasted some walin bread for Obi-Wan.

As predictable as if he were a droid, Obi-Wan stumbled out of his room once the caf-maker pinged it was done. The rich, chocolate-y aroma of fresh caf filled the apartment, seemingly drawing Obi-Wan to the kitchen. His clothes were rumpled, his hair a mess, and his eyes barely open. Anakin had laughed at him when he'd first seen how Obi-Wan looked when he first woke up, but it was boring now. Obi-Wan grunted what passed for a "good morning" at Anakin, then poured himself a large cup of caf. He stirred in extra cream and sweetener, drinking it in large gulps before pouring himself another. Anakin was eleven and still didn't understand Obi-Wan's sweet tooth. Very little that Obi-Wan ate didn't have at least natural sugars in it. He'd read in Obi-Wan's holofile that he was Hydarian, a planet known for sweet, heavy foods rich in carbohydrates. Anakin wondered if that had anything to do with Obi-Wan's tastes as he watched Obi-Wan pull out a piece of walin toast, butter it, and sprinkle more sweetener on it. Remembering what his mother had often said about too many sweets, Anakin was surprised Obi-Wan still _had_ teeth as he shoved the whole piece of toast in his mouth. Obi-Wan's manners didn't show up right away.

Obi-Wan shuffled away to have his shower, after which he might even actually talk to Anakin. He was most assuredly not a morning person. In fact, he was a night person. Later in the day, usually around lunch, Obi-Wan became far more sharp and alert, and he stayed up much later than Anakin could. When they'd been on a mission to Kiratay and had been forced to a nocturnal schedule, Obi-Wan had woken up easily, completely alert the entire time. As far as Anakin was concerned, Obi-Wan was just _weird_.

Breakfast was done when Obi-Wan came out of the shower, dripping water and wearing only a towel around his waist. Anakin frowned at him, slightly jealous. Obi-Wan had _muscles_ and a little bit of hair on his chest, not to mention the beard he'd recently grown in. Though he didn't have muscles like, say, Master Windu, Obi-Wan still looked like a proper man. On the few occasions Anakin had been forced to shower with him while on missions, Anakin had noticed Obi-Wan's penis was far larger than his, too. Everything about Obi-Wan's well-developed body annoyed Anakin, who knew he was far too skinny and growing in strange angles. When he'd asked Obi-Wan about the differences, Obi-Wan had looked slightly embarrassed and then had shrugged, telling him to wait for puberty for things to get bigger. Anakin shoved spoons into the bowls of walin porridge, wishing puberty would hurry up and finish with him.

"They fit well?" asked Obi-Wan stiffly, pouring himself another cup of caf as Anakin set their plates of food on their small kitchen table.

"Huh?"

"Your clothes. They fit well? You had another growth spurt recently."

"Oh. Yeah. Er, thanks."

"You're welcome." Obi-Wan sat at the small table and mechanically ate his breakfast. He did not say thank you, but then, he never did. Anakin wasn't sure if that was because he was Obi-Wan or because he simply didn't notice Anakin made breakfast every morning. Considering that Obi-Wan had once failed to notice Anakin had intentionally put his robes on backwards until lunchtime, anything was possible before Obi-Wan properly woke up.

Anakin quickly ate his food, enjoying the sweet taste of walin porridge. Every morning, he hoped Obi-Wan would talk about something, anything, but he remained silent, chewing his food and staring at the table, rather than at Anakin. Shmi had always made a point of talking about _something_ with Anakin, but Anakin's initial impression of Obi-Wan remained: Obi-Wan didn't like him very much.

It was starting to get cold again. Anakin shivered; Obi-Wan must have adjusted the temperature. "So, what are we doing today? Lightsaber practice?" he ventured hopefully, determined to at least get a schedule out of Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan shook his head. "Master Yoda is holding a lesson with the younglings in your class this afternoon, and we'll both be attending. We're going to do a few exercises and meditate this morning, then you can have free time."

"Why do _you_ have to attend?"

"It's an important class. If you do well, Master Yoda might agree to my request to have you skip a few classes and join your own age group."

Anakin's stomach twisted pleasantly, and he felt very warm, despite the apartment's temperature. He'd had no idea Obi-Wan was even lobbying for him to be promoted. He'd had no idea Obi-Wan even thought about him when they were apart.

"Why are you grinning at me like that?" Obi-Wan eyed him suspiciously.

"I..." Anakin paused, trying not to sound excited, but it burst out of his very pores. "I'm just... You think I'm ready to be with all the Padawans my age?"

"Don't talk with your mouth full, Anakin. It's disgusting."

Anakin quickly chewed and swallowed his mouthful of garatu eggs. He leapt up, still unable to prevent his smile from stretching his lips. "I'll go wash up for our meditations, Master."

Obi-Wan continued to eye him suspiciously, but Anakin could hardly blame him. After all, he wasn't normally so cooperative.

...

The exercises had been more like slow stretches, made more for reflection and thought than body strengthening. Anakin found meditating as boring as he ever did, but kept himself contained. It was hard to stop smiling, but Obi-Wan didn't complain about it, so Anakin figured it was all right. Obi-Wan gave him some time to work on some speeder parts he'd collected in the workroom on the ground floor and even brought Anakin lunch - a sandwich filled with blue rytak meat and covered with honey donsas - one of Anakin's favorites. That meant Anakin must have done something good, though he couldn't figure out what it was.

Anakin hummed to himself as he worked, fingers nimbly dancing over the parts, idly trying different things with the assembly to see what would make it work better. He lost himself to his fantasies, hardly paying attention to the pile of mechanical parts around. He spent some time envisioning himself a great Jedi hero, rescuing his mother from Tatooine to live with him at the Jedi Temple. It wasn't an unrealistic dream, he knew it. If he did well today, he could _prove_ how good of a Jedi he could be. He just had to remember to remain cool, calm, collected, and -

"Anakin! Have you gone deaf?"

Anakin looked up, shamefaced. He'd been daydreaming again of what it might be like to save his mother and free all the slaves of Mos Espa. It had been a glorious dream. In it, he'd taken Shmi to live with him in the apartment he shared with Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan had been happy about it. Obi-Wan and Shmi had been about to get married; Anakin was convinced if Obi-Wan became Anakin's official stepfather, he'd _have_ to love him then.

Obi-Wan glared down at him. "We're leaving now. Time for class."

"Yes, Master," Anakin mumbled, untangling his legs to stand up. He mopped as much of the grease off his face as he could with the towel Obi-Wan offered him, silent and still blushing. He wondered what Obi-Wan would think of his fantasies. Considering that Obi-Wan usually became quiet and uncomfortable around women, he doubted Obi-Wan would want to marry Anakin's mother, even though she was the most beautiful woman on Tatooine.

Anakin followed Obi-Wan out of their apartment and down the wide, impressive halls of the Jedi Temple. The skylight-dotted ceilings soared high over their head, and elegant carvings and buttresses lined their paths. Obi-Wan walked with his usual prim grace, his arms slightly swinging, with almost a bit of swagger to his hips. Anakin stared at Obi-Wan's right hand, possessed by a sudden urge to run up and slip his hand inside it. He had a feeling Obi-Wan would react the same way he had when Anakin had tried to hug him: he'd stiffen up and pull away. That had stung, so Anakin usually kept his hands to himself, though he wished he could touch Obi-Wan like he'd been able to touch Shmi, and even Qui-Gon before he'd died. He wanted to know Obi-Wan was _there_. Anakin was grateful that at least Obi-Wan never kicked him out of the bed when he came to him after a nightmare. Obi-Wan never put his arms around Anakin like Shmi had, but at least he let him lie close.

The room Obi-Wan ushered him into was one of the less formal classrooms, usually designed for story-lessons and meditations. Anakin's shoulders slumped immediately. He _hated_ story-lessons. They were inevitably boring.

Obi-Wan told him to sit down on the carpet just as Master Yoda hobbled in, a group of younglings a few years younger than Anakin trailing after him. Anakin knew most of them by name, though he didn't really want to. They were all _babies_, as far as he was concerned.

Anakin tensed when he saw Master Windu walk in, carrying a toddler in his large arms. Anakin was almost positive Master Windu didn't like him. Obi-Wan must have sensed this, and he patted Anakin on the arm, offering one of his rare smiles. It lit up his whole face, making his eyes seem more blue than usual. Anakin liked the way Obi-Wan looked when he was happy. "It'll be all right, Anakin. Just remember to quiet your mind and listen to the Force when the time comes. Trust your heart in this matter." Anakin realized Obi-Wan was more nervous than he was. He relaxed instantly at Obi-Wan's touch. He felt warm again, despite that the Temple's normal temperature was below his preferences.

"I will, Master."

Obi-Wan squeezed his arm, then went to sit up in the corner of the rectangular room. The other younglings sat in front of Anakin, gathering by the Jedi Masters. None of the children paid much attention to Anakin. He was used to that. Most of them thought he was bossy and mean. He didn't care, because he thought they were stupid.

"Today, young Padawans, we're going to tell you a story," began Master Windu, his strong baritone silencing the twittering younglings. Anakin stared at him for a moment, then at Obi-Wan, who nodded at him. Obi-Wan was sitting off to the side of the Jedi Masters, on one of the round pod chairs situated by the smooth wall, his body language tense and his expression intent. There was always this sort of liveliness inside of Obi-Wan, but he kept it locked away, so only Anakin caught glimpses of it. Not for the first time, Anakin wondered what Obi-Wan was like when he was Anakin's age, if maybe he hadn't hid all his feelings back then. They could have been friends and wrestled together and maybe played games and tricks on their Masters. They could have been brothers.

"What sort of story?" piped up a brown-haired boy named Jak. He saw Anakin looking at him and made a face. Anakin stuck out his tongue, and Jak quickly looked away, whispering to the girl next to him, who giggled. Anakin tried his best to ignore them, though he knew they were whispering about him.

"A story about me, it is," said Master Yoda, settling on one of the wide pod chairs near Master Windu. Windu handed the tiny little girl in his arms over to Yoda, and she suddenly didn't look so tiny anymore as she settled comfortably onto the small Jedi Master's lap. Anakin envied her - he'd never be brave enough to even sit on Obi-Wan's lap, much less Master Yoda's.

Master Windu began speaking, his voice mellowing. The story began with Master Yoda's youth as a Jedi, how he'd visited his home planet and met his family after becoming a Jedi Knight . Anakin longed for the day when he could return to Tatooine to see his mother after becoming a Jedi Knight, too. The story quickly became boring, as Master Yoda apparently didn't do anything but talk to people, and Anakin tuned Master Windu out, watching people instead. The other children sat close together, whispering on occasion. He watched the little toddler in Yoda's arms. He watched Windu as he spoke, speaking of Yoda's life as comfortably as if he'd lived it. But most of all, Anakin watched Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan spent most of the story either watching Yoda or the wall, occasionally running his fingers through his reddish-blondish-brownish hair. Anakin watched the sunlight filtering through the large windows glint off Obi-Wan's hair, making it seem more red, almost on fire. Obi-Wan was definitely nervous to be fidgeting with his hair so much.

When the story started to get interesting, Anakin found himself listening again, ripping his gaze off Obi-Wan and onto the dark face of Master Windu. It was like looking at Obi-Wan in negative, they were so physically dissimilar.

"Master Yoda arrived home at last, but he was too late," Master Windu told the group of younglings gathered before him, ignoring Anakin. "The planet as he had known it was destroyed. His village - all the villages - had been burned. His family, his friends, his people, all the plants and lifeforms he knew were just... gone. All that remained was a smoking, steaming ruin. A bleeding wound in the Force."

The toddler on Master Yoda's lap whimpered, burying her face in his shoulder and clutching at his robes with a chubby fist. Green fingers stroked her hair absently. Anakin found the scene odd - he'd never thought Yoda was so _gentle_. Over the girl's blond curls, Master Yoda looked at Obi-Wan and nodded for him to continue the lesson.

Obi-Wan stood and folded his hands into the sleeves of his robes. Anakin could see he was working on the material with his fingers, but he supposed he was the only one in the room who could tell how nervous Obi-Wan was. "And what do you suppose Master Yoda did?" he asked, his voice clear.

There was silence, for a moment, as they considered the question. The late afternoon sunlight slanted in through the high, arched windows, turning the beige walls and carpeted floor to gold. Anakin was once again reminded of home, missing his mother more than ever. She would have liked the Jedi Temple. And she would never, ever have made him eat seafood, even when he was bad.

Finally, a little girl near Anakin spoke, jarring him out of his thoughts. "Cried?" she suggested in a high voice.

"Told the Senate?" said another, emboldened by the girl's suggestion.

"Hunted down the ones who did it and _fought_ 'em, Master Obi-Wan!" shouted Jak. Anakin tried to glare a hole through the back of Jak's head. He didn't like the way Jak said Obi-Wan's name, as if he knew Obi-Wan. No one knew Obi-Wan like Anakin did.

Jak's friend who he'd been whispering to, a small blue Twi'lek girl named Dila, elbowed Jak in the ribs. "No, he _forgave_ them."

"Bet he was sad, anyway," a dark-haired girl named Ozza whispered, "knowing his family was dead." She'd had a friend, who'd been close to Anakin's age, who'd died of an incurable blood disease only a few months before. Ozza had a habit of following Anakin around the Temple since then, but Anakin didn't know why. All he knew was that girls were particularly icky, especially babies like her, and he'd prefer it if she just left him alone.

"Which brings me to the next question," said Obi-Wan. "How do you suppose Master Yoda felt?"

The room went silent again. It seemed a stupid question to Anakin; how was anyone supposed to guess how _Master Yoda_ felt about anything? The sound of robes rustling filled the room as the children shifted, looking at each other uncomfortably, no one wanting to be the one to break the silence. Anakin sure didn't want to.

Then there was a soft noise of protest as Master Yoda stood and set the little girl down in his chair. There was more brushing of cloth on the floor as the younglings moved to make way for him, and a quiet tapping sound as the tip of his staff struck the floor, though his clawed green feet made no sound at all.

"Tell you what I felt, I will," Master Yoda said as he turned to face the group. Obi-Wan took a step back and resumed his seat. Anakin was disappointed. He liked to hear Obi-Wan's voice.

"Great sorrow, I felt," Master Yoda continued, his throaty voice going soft. "Loneliness. Fear. Do not be surprised! Fear have I known, yes, and anger, too. Angry I was, then, at those who had done this thing."

Most of the children nodded sympathetically, but Anakin feigned boredom - not because he didn't find Yoda's revelation interesting, but mostly because he couldn't imagine someone like Yoda ever being angry or afraid or even caring about anything other than the Jedi Code. It was a strange, strange thought. Anakin felt someone staring at him, and when he looked over at Obi-Wan, he realized it was his Master. He smiled a little at Obi-Wan, happy to be noticed. Obi-Wan gave Anakin and then Yoda a pointed look, so Anakin took the hint and went back to watching Yoda.

"Well, what did you do, Master?" Jak asked impatiently. "_Did_ you fight the bad guys?"

"Did you cry?" whispered the blonde who had been on Master Yoda's lap, speaking around her wet fingers.

Master Yoda seemed to consider each question as he went to stand in front of Jak. "Wept here, I did," he said at last, gently poking the boy's chest with the end of his stick. "And wished to fight them. Here." Another jab. "But here?" he asked, touching the stick to Jak's short Padawan-cut hair. "Here, the calm of the Force prevailed."

Yoda looked over his shoulder at Obi-Wan, motioning for Obi-Wan to join him. Obi-Wan moved forward, now licking his lips, his eyes fixed on Yoda. Anakin wondered why Obi-Wan was so nervous. Was this some sort of test for him, too?

"The heart," said Master Yoda, reaching up to jab at Obi-Wan's tunic with his stick. "Avoid feeling, it cannot. Avoid emotions, it cannot. Impulsive it is, and impatient. Desires it has, along with the body."

Anakin snickered, remembering the small book on sex Obi-Wan had given him to read last month after one of his Biology courses. He wondered if Yoda was speaking of desires like that, and Anakin snickered even more. He couldn't picture Obi-Wan ever doing anything as described in that book - he was Obi-Wan, after all. Obi-Wan was boring; he liked meditation and history and being alone. Anakin couldn't even picture Obi-Wan getting naked for anything but a shower.

Yoda smiled and whacked Obi-Wan's stomach with the side of his gimer stick, hard enough for Obi-Wan to flinch. Anger surged up inside Anakin. How _dare_ Yoda hit _his_ Master? The children in front giggled, which only made Anakin angrier. He tried to force it away, but he desperately wished to snatch Yoda's stick away from him and hit _him_. That, however, was a very bad idea, and Anakin knew it, so he clenched his fists, trying to force the anger away.

"Desires, the body has," Master Yoda continued, looking at the younglings. "Let us say a box of sweets, I have. And hungry, Master Obi-Wan is not, but he wants them for himself! Think Master Obi-Wan would take them, do you?"

"Yes!" cried Jak. Anakin wished again a hole would swallow Jak up. Obi-Wan would never do anything like that. If Obi-Wan ever wanted anything except for Anakin to be perfect, Anakin had never heard about it.

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow at Jak and Dila. If Master Windu had done it, Anakin knew they would have felt ashamed, but they only started giggling, as well as several of the other younglings around them. He wished part of the ceiling would cave in on them for laughing at his Master.

Master Yoda smiled. "Think so, do you?"

"No," said Anakin, coming to his Master's defense. "He wou-" His voice cracked, and Anakin cleared his throat, a bit ashamed. He _hated_ when it did that lately. "He wouldn't take the sweets, Master."

"And why?" Master Yoda tilted his head curiously and jabbed his stick in the air at Anakin's direction for emphasis. "Wants them, he does."

"Yes, but he knows it would be wrong. They're yours."

"Ah!" exclaimed Master Yoda. His bulbous green eyes sparkled. "_Knows_, Master Obi-Wan does. But knows where?" he asked, spreading the three fingers of his free hand. "His stomach? Knows, it does, that the sweets are not his own?"

"No, his brains, Master!" a tall, white-haired boy named Ware yelled.

"His _mind_," Anakin corrected, before Master Yoda had a chance to speak. He waved at Obi-Wan, staring at the streams of sunlight surrounding him like a wall of fire. He searched for the best way to convey what he meant, knowing it was important as all the younger children stared at him blankly. "His brain is just...circuitry. You know, like in a droid. When really, a droid's personality comes from its prog-"

"Stay on topic, young Skywalker," Master Windu boomed, tone full of disapproval. "And let us leave the teaching to Master Yoda."

Obi-Wan glanced back at Master Windu, and Anakin was pleased to see him frowning a bit. Anakin pulled one of his legs to his chest and bent forward to rest his chin on his knee, his arms wrapped around it, trying not to smirk at Master Windu as Obi-Wan glared at him. When Obi-Wan turned back to Anakin, he smiled. The curve of his lips was gentle enough that Anakin would have missed it in his scruffy beard, but the skin around his nose and eyebrows crinkled in a way that could never hide his expressions from Anakin. Anakin found the fact that he was starting to know Obi-Wan so well as to notice all his subtle little quirks immensely satisfying. That, and everything looked brighter when Obi-Wan smiled at him, because his smiles had been rare since Master Qui-Gon had died.

"Yes," Master Yoda said, sounding a bit amused. "Given us a fine example, young Skywalker has." Anakin started at the compliment, surprised that it came from Yoda, who'd never wanted him to be a Jedi. "Crude parts of a droid, the body, the heart. Insignificant, they are. But the head, the mind...yes. The mind _knows_. Thinks. The heart... only feelings can it have. No thoughts."

Jak was whispering to Dila again. Yoda paused for a moment, then gently rapped the boy's head with his gimer stick. Anakin smirked. "And sometimes, no thoughts has the mind, either. Tell us all, you will, what younglings must do."

Jak and Dila exchanged glances then looked down at their folded legs. "Younglings are respectful of their elders. Their duty is to learn. Younglings live to listen; they do not speak out of turn," they said quickly, almost together. Anakin smirked even more.

"Hmm," said Master Yoda. "Speak the words, your bodies do. Understand their meaning, do your minds?"

"Yes, Master."

"Good." Master Yoda lowered his stick, leaning on it as he studied the younglings before him. He smiled a bit, looking as if he was going to crack his wizened green face open with the effort. "Now, meditate. Search yourselves and imagine, you will, something that could tempt your hearts to fear, anger, grief. How your minds would react, you will decide. Clear this is, hmm?"

"Yes, Master."

Master Yoda nodded and hobbled back to his seat. The children stirred and whispered amongst themselves, settling a bit, all except for Anakin, who kept his attention split between Obi-Wan and Yoda. After another pointed glance from Obi-Wan, Anakin relaxed his body, dropping his leg and folding it over the other, resting his elbows on his knees. He closed his eyes, determined not to be distracted by Obi-Wan's face or movements. He sensed this was important.

Silence finally fell over the room as the other children started to meditate, too. Anakin ignored them, trying to quiet his mind, going very still as he sought and felt the Force. It hummed softly in Anakin's ears, drowning out the muted sounds of the distant endless city of Coruscant, even the sound of his own steady breathing. He could still see a soft glow from the sunlight, even through his eyelids, but it only made the Force seem like liquid gold in his mind. He stood on a beach of his own imagining with pure, white sand, like the kind the glassmakers had used on Tatooine - the good kind of sand. Before him stretched out an ocean of warm, shallow water, pure gold. Anakin waded out into the water, unafraid of it, because this water he could control, water he'd made up himself.

The humming grew into a soft song. It sounded like Shmi singing a lullaby to him when he'd been very small, rocking his cradle and stroking his face with her roughened fingers. It sounded like Qui-Gon, his rich voice rumbling softly at Anakin on the trip to Naboo, telling him of the Force, promising him he would understand it soon. It sounded like Obi-Wan, humming softly as he worked on tristeri four-dimensional puzzle, his eyes bright and full of a passion he rarely let anyone see. It sounded like Padmé, her strong voice flat, but powerful as it carried her intentions across the Senate. He felt warm, floating in his ocean of gold, thinking about the four of them, of how much they all meant to him in their own different ways. They were part of him, and he of them.

Anakin scowled, remembering he was supposed to be meditating on what would make him turn to the dark side and drive him to the edge of madness. He tried to think of it, but the siren's call of the people he loved distracted him. No matter how much he reached through the Force for an answer, all he could feel was the warm bliss of his sea of gold, of all the people he cared about. His head ached from the effort, but he kept trying, pulling away from the warmth, but nothing came - there was only his heartbeat, the sound of his breathing, and the blackness behind his eyes. Beyond that was the sound of rustling clothing, younglings whispering to each other or answering questions, other Jedi moving around inside the Temple, and the distant sounds of Coruscant. When his head pounded so hard that Anakin felt as if someone had jammed a lightsaber through it, he gave up, relaxing through the Force.

Anakin's eyes snapped open when he heard Obi-Wan's melodic voice talking to Jak. He frowned a bit, watching Obi-Wan intently. He hoped it wasn't because Obi-Wan liked Jak. Anakin did not want to be replaced by a baby who didn't even know which end of a speeder held an engine.

Obi-Wan knelt in front of Jak, but Jak was frowning, chewing on his bottom lip. "I didn't _see_ anything, but I _thought_ of someone hurting the Temple, Master. Everyone in it, I mean. Burning it, like those guys did to Master Yoda's planet."

Obi-Wan nodded, as if this was normal. "And how did this thought make you feel?" he asked. "What did you think of yourself doing?"

"I'd be mad!" Jak said, and Anakin rolled his eyes. How _lame_. "I'd want to find a lightsaber - a real one - and run after the bad guys and cut off their feet so they couldn't run. Then I'd make 'em say they're sorry, and I'd cut off their heads."

Obi-Wan pressed his lips together; it was an expression he often made when trying not to smile. Anakin suppressed another urge to beat Jak's face into the floor. "But you do realize that such an act would be wrong?"

Jak nodded. He rubbed a spot of dirt on his face. "I shouldn't cut off their heads?"

"No. Can you tell me why that is?"

"_Because_." Jak sighed. "If they said they were sorry, a Jedi has to forgive them." Anakin wondered how anyone could forgive someone who had killed everyone in the Jedi Temple. Such an act would be unforgivable in his opinion, but he knew better than to ever voice it.

"Good." Obi-Wan nodded and stood up, brushing off his tunic apron. "You must be mindful of your anger, Jak. A Jedi does not crave violence. And you would do well to remember that the lightsaber is a tool of peace. It is not a weapon of vengeance." He looked over at Anakin, who stared back. "Meditate on this, and try to think of other ways you might capture those... bad guys... without resorting to violence at all."

"Yes, Master Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan made his way through the room, questioning some of the others until, at last, he came to Anakin. Anakin stared up at him, waiting for Obi-Wan to question him, seized by a sudden feeling in his stomach rather like a whole nest of glitterflies beating madly to get out.

"Well," said Obi-Wan, smiling slightly as he sat down beside Anakin, folding his legs. "Has your programming given you any insight?"

Anakin scowled at him. "Don't make fun, Master."

"I wasn't." Obi-Wan leaned forward, glancing at Master Windu, then giving Anakin a smile that Anakin couldn't describe as anything but mischievous. He wondered again what Obi-Wan was like as a boy and desperately wished they could've have been friends. "I thought your analogy was... rather good." Anakin smiled, the warm feeling he'd felt when he'd been floating in his sea of gold washing over him again. "Though Master Windu was correct," Obi-Wan added gently. "You should leave the teaching to Master Yoda."

"I know."

Obi-Wan sat back and looked at Anakin's face. The sun had fully set by now, and the moonlight drifting in made Obi-Wan look softer and kinder than usual. Anakin wanted to touch Obi-Wan's face, to see if his beard felt as soft as it looked, but it was another of those passing desires he'd never act on. "Well, then. What did you see?"

Anakin looked down at his lap and began playing with the folds of his leggings. All he'd been able to think about was the people who he loved, not about what would make him turn to the dark side. "Nothing," he muttered.

"Anakin! You _did_ meditate?"

"Yes, Master!" Anakin pulled both legs to his chest, staring at his knees as he spoke. "I cleared my mind, and I tried to see something that could tempt me to the dark side, but... there wasn't anything."

"Perhaps you weren't trying hard enough."

Anakin shook his head. "No! I was!" He looked up at Obi-Wan earnestly. "But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't think of anything that could make me turn. I _wouldn't_, Master. Never." And he wouldn't. He knew he wouldn't.

"Indeed." Obi-Wan looked skeptical. Anakin wondered what Obi-Wan's answer had been when he'd gone through this test, what he'd thought might turn him to the dark side. Anakin burned with the question, but knew Obi-Wan would only avoid answering. He never liked it when Anakin asked him questions like that.

Obi-Wan suddenly patted Anakin's back, awkwardly. "You do realize that there is no shame in the heart's weakness," he said, not quite a question.

Anakin rolled his eyes. Obi-Wan didn't believe him. "I know."

"And you know that pride leads to over-confidence, and fear can lead to anger, which is of the dark side."

Anakin sighed loudly. He knew all these things. Why didn't Obi-Wan just believe him? He wasn't like those other children. He wasn't scared about not being powerful enough, or strong enough, or smart enough. He knew if he paid attention more, he could be all those things. "I'm not afraid, Master. Is it pride if you're just being honest?"

"Well…" Obi-Wan hesitated, his gaze fixed on the stretch of carpet between Anakin and himself. "What, exactly, did you do to achieve a meditative state? What did you see?"

"I closed my eyes," Anakin said, a bit impatiently. "And I concentrated on the Force and focused on my breathing. I felt all warm and cozy and golden, like I was swimming in sunlight." He hesitated to tell Obi-Wan about the people he'd heard while there, as he wasn't sure how Obi-Wan would react to know Anakin loved him just yet. "After I felt the Force better, I tried to see what could make me turn to the dark side. And… there was nothing." He shrugged. "I didn't see anything, only blackness from my eyes being closed. I only heard my breathing, and my heartbeat. Well, and the younglings moving, and noises from the Temple and the city. But no visions came, Master. I swear."

"Don't swear," Obi-Wan said, sounding as mechanical as a droid.

"But I do," Anakin insisted. He reached out to grasp Obi-Wan's hand, but remembered how Obi-Wan was about touching and crossed his arms in front of his chest instead. "I do swear, Master. I am Anakin Skywalker, and I'm going to be a Jedi, and I will never turn to the dark side. I give my word."

Obi-Wan opened his mouth, looking as if he was going to chastise Anakin. Then he looked into Anakin's eyes, studying him intently, and closed his mouth, swallowing his words. Anakin wondered if Obi-Wan believed him, if he trusted him, he could _see_ how much Anakin wanted to prove himself.

The bell suddenly rang for dinner, making them both jump. Obi-Wan rose to his feet, looking away. The younglings stirred, and Master Windu and Yoda called for order, to form a line so they could take them to the cafeteria. Anakin was grateful Obi-Wan didn't like crowds; he wanted to have dinner alone with Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, and he extended a hand to Anakin. "Such faith," he said, shaking his head.

Anakin eagerly grabbed Obi-Wan's hand, squeezing his fingers hard as he stood. "I just know, Master."

"Your programming tells you so?" Obi -Wan asked, his beard twitching.

"No, my heart," Anakin told him seriously, remembering Obi-Wan's earlier advice. "But I know it's right."

Obi-Wan let Anakin hold his hand on the way back to their apartment, to Anakin's surprise. He skipped a bit as they walked, but Obi-Wan pretended not to notice, though Anakin saw him smiling. Dinner was roast pilaka and mashed toregrin - one of Anakin's favorites. Obi-Wan never touched the thermostat that night, either. The next morning, after a couple cups of caf and his shower, Obi-Wan told Anakin that Master Yoda had agreed to let Anakin join the Padawans his age in class, pride in Anakin's advancement clear in his face. Obi-Wan's pride in Anakin made Anakin feel like how he'd felt after winning the Boonta Eve pod race. He nearly exploded with joy, convinced his faith had helped bring him even closer to his dreams of being a great Jedi Knight one day.

Faith, much like love, is blind.

_The End._


End file.
